Degrassi School for the Mentally Ill
by itsfataltobethisempty
Summary: No good parent wants to lock their kid up in a crazy house, but no good parent wants to watch their child suffer, either. It was for this reason that Degrassi was established - to provide students with a normal school environment while also keeping them healthy, happy, and safe. Of course, that doesn't mean they'll always achieve that goal... MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING.
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to the Black Parade

**Degrassi School For the Mentally Ill**

**Chapter One: Welcome to the Black Parade**

"You're gonna believe that klepto over me?" Bianca shrieked, once again lurching towards Imogen with a snarl. "Check her pockets! _Check her pockets!_"

Mr. Simpson pulled back on her arms to restrain her. "Bianca," he said calmly, "Bianca. Your wallet is on the table. You must have put it over there and forgotten." Bianca snapped her head to the right wildly - her wallet was, in fact, on the table. She wrestled out of Mr. Simpson's arms, slouching.

"See?" Imogen said, her signature snide smile snaking its way onto her lips as she walked past Bianca, "I'm getting better... unlike _some _people."

"You were provoking her," a new voice said. Bianca and Imogen turned to find a boy they hadn't seen before, probably a new kid. Hie had brown hair and brown eyes and _damn, _he was hot. As Mr. Simpson left the crime scene, the boy sauntered over to them. "And you were totally eyeing that wallet."

Imogen's jaw dropped. "Who are you, anyway?" she asked.

"Drew Torres," he answered, "My parents shipped me here over the weekend. And who might you lovely ladies be?"

"Imogen Moreno, commonly known as 'klepto'," Imogen said, extending her hand, "Pleased to meet you." Drew shook her hand, then held his out to Bianca, who just stared at it, clearly unamused. "This is Bianca. She can be a bit grumpy, don't take it personally."

"I am not grumpy!" Bianca snapped. She couldn't help but laugh at the irony of her own statement. "Okay, okay. Bianca DeSousa." She held her hand out to Drew, hoping for a second chance. He took it, and lightly brushed his lips against the back of it.

"It's an honor," Drew said. Imogen snorted and nugded Bianca, shooting her a pointed look as she very subtly left the two alone.

"So, what're you in for?" Bianca asked nonchalantly. Drew inhaled sharply, but didn't offer up any other response. "C'mon. We're all crazy here. What's your damage?"

The look Drew gave her was almost a glare, but not quite. "What's yours?" he asked, an edge in his voice.

"Post-traumatic stress disorder," she answered instantly, "Long story short, a guy tried to rape me, I killed him, then his little buddy turned me into his bitch for a while. I got him arrested, but it sure as hell did a number on me. Nightmares, panic attacks, the works."

Drew raised an eyebrow, didn't seem to take note of the tragic story otherwise. "You're a pretty open person, eh?"

"People can't spread shit about me if I spread it myself," Bianca answered, shrugging. "Now, I told you why I'm here, you gonna return the favour?"

"I'm pretty sure I never agreed to that," Drew said quickly. Bianca started to protest, but Drew cut her off. "Oh, what's that?" he asked, putting a hand to his ear as if he heard someone calling him in the distance, "Must be Dr. Oh. I have an appointment for.." He searched for a clock, but didn't find one. "Now."

"Asshole," Bianca muttered as he left, mostly to herself but loud enough for Drew to hear.

"Always," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared from the common room into the hallway.

"So?" Imogen asked, suddenly appearing right behind Bianca and making her jump straight out of her skin. "Was he awesome? Did you fall in _looove_?"

"Shut up, Immy!" Bianca laughed, picking a pillow up from the couch and throwing it at her. The two settled onto said couch. "I probably scared him off. I have this theory that if I blurt out my sob story in the first conversation, it'll weed out the people I actually want to talk to, but usually no one ends up getting weeded out."

"Hey, you weeded me out," Imogen said, then paused to think. "Actually, you're right, I'm not a weed, I'm a flower. Maybe you should change your theory."

"I still don't see how you guys are friends," Eli interrupted, sliding onto the couch next to Imogen and wrapping an arm around her. "I'm pretty sure you're plotting to kill each other more often than not."

Imogen rolled her eyes at Eli and shrugged his arm off. Bianca, noticing that Imogen was clearly uncomfortable, gave Eli a sarcastic smile. "Well, there's not many viable options for friends around here," she said in a fake-sweet voice, "You have to find the people who aren't completely insane. So if you were wondering why we haven't befriended you yet..."

"Yeah, the girl who steals everything in sight and the girl who wakes up screaming every night..." he trailed off, his eyes lighting up. "That would actually work so well in the poem I'm writing..."

"Don't fucking talk about Imogen like that," Bianca said, rising from her seat and moving forward. Imogen held her back.

"Calm, down, Bee," she said, firmly pushing Bianca back onto the couch, "You know you're going to get in trouble if you kick another guy's ass."

Eli laughed once, shaking his head. "I'd like to see her try." But apparently he didn't - he quickly got off the couch and walked away, muttering under his breath. When Bianca dragged her eyes away from his back, Imogen was smiling uncontrollably.

"You admitted it," Imogen said. Bianca's eyes widened and she immediately started to protest, but Imogen fought back my poking her arm over and over. "You're my _friend,_" she said, "You're my friend, you're my friend, you're my friend -"

"My _annoying _friend," Bianca snapped before breaking into a warm smile. "I have to have at least _one _friend," she said, "And from what I've seen, you're the least likely to murder me in my sleep. It's not like I like you or anything sappy like that."

Imogen shrugged. "I'll take what I can get. Although it would probably be a better idea to befriend the person who's most likely to murder you in your sleep. Wouldn't want to get on their bad side, now would you?"

"Well, in that case, I should probably replace you with..." She searched the common room, but it fell flat. "I don't know, everyone in here's actually pretty damn sane. I guess they can't let the really crazy people mingle with the others."

"They never find the really crazy people," Imogen answered, her voice dead serious. When Bianca looked over at her, her eyes matched her tone. "It's so ingrained in them that no one notices. Well, until they shoot."

Bianca drew her eyebrows together, her expression a mix of confusion and horror. "O-kay. You've officially stolen any hope of my nightmares ever going away."

And just like that, Imogen's face brightened and her lips curled into a smirk. She put an arm around Bianca. "It's what I do best."

**Alright, this is a bit short and ended sort of abruptly, but it kinda wrote itself and I'm actually pretty pleased with it, so I hope you guys are too. Reviews/favourites/alerts/et cetera are always appreciated! And I'd really like some input - what characters would you like to see next? What ships do you want? What disorders do you want the characters to have? I'm still in the process of plotting, really, so anything goes! :)**


	2. Chapter 2: Runs in the Family

**I forgot to put this on the first chapter, but this story will have MAJOR TRIGGERS for suicide, self-injury, rape, eating disorders, abuse (emotional, physical, and sexual), violence, drugs and alcohol, strong language, a shitload of mental disorders, and probably quite a few common phobias. Yes, that's a lot and probably accounts for quite a bit of my readers. That said, I strongly discourage you from reading if you might be triggered.**

**Degrassi School for the Mentally Ill**

**Chapter Two: Runs in the Family**

Dr. Oh glanced at her desk, looking over the papers that sat atop it. She was trying to be nonchalant, but Katie wasn't stupid - she knew what the papers were. Notes. From the teachers, the psychologists, hell, probably even from the lunch ladies, letting Dr. Oh know how she'd been doing. "How are you, Katie?" Dr. Oh asked when she was finished reading. The crease between her eyebrows had disappeared, and Katie could only hope that meant the report was good.

"I'm good," she said simply, then shut up. Dr. Oh just looked at her, and damn it if that look didn't get to her every single time. Katie sighed. "I promise, I'm good. I'm just having some... issues."

"Issues?" Dr. Oh asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Katie nodded slowly. "I can't... find a middle ground. If I eat normally, I feel like I'm losing control. Like I'm just doing what you tell me to do. And - and I can't keep that much down, anyway. I haven't been eating a lot." Katie cast her eyes down, hoping her honesty would keep Dr. Oh from being mad. She'd been doing so great, but she'd hit a rough patch this week.

"It's okay, Katie," Dr. Oh said, "I understand. No one expects you to recover overnight. These things take time, but I believe in you. I can see how much you want to get better, and you will." Katie nodded and gave her a soft smile in thanks as an uncomfortable silence fell over the room. "Katie, when was the last time you spoke to your parents or sister?"

"Um, about a week and a half ago, why?" Dr. Oh sighed. "Why?" Katie asked again, gripping the armrests on her chair.

"I guess you haven't heard, then. Katie, Maya is transferring here. Your parents are bringing her on Wednesday." Katie felt her heart drop along with her jaw.

"W-w-what?" she stuttered, "Why is Maya coming here? She's fine!" Katie slumped in her seat and held back tears. "She's fine, right?"

"There's no easy way to say this. Katie, I'm sure you're aware that eating disorders often run in the family..." Dr. Oh started, her voice gentle but pitying. Katie shook her head in disbelief. "And because Maya grew up around yours, she was exposed to those habits at a young age... It's not uncommon for this to happen."

"No, no, no -" She tried to talk, but it came out as an incomprehensible sob. She tried her best to speak through her tears. "Are you - are you saying I _gave _my sister an eating disorder? No, no, no, no, this can't be happening -"

"It's not your fault, Katie," Dr. Oh said. The strangled noise Katie made was half scoff and half cry. "It's _not_," she insisted. "There's obviously some underlying problems that cause Maya to go down this path, and that's why she's coming here. She's going to get better, just like you are."

Katie nodded, but she couldn't bring herself to stay on the topic. It was just too much to take in. Her sister had an eating disorder. And it was her fault. Her fault. She'd already known she was horrible, but this was a new low. "So, what did they say about me?" she asked, hoping to change the subject. Dr. Oh seemed taken aback. "I'm not dumb, I know you have notes on reports on me. So, lay it on me. I can handle it."

* * *

Alli could already feel the withdrawals creeping up on her. Her head was pounding, her knees were starting to tremble ever-so-slightly. But she had to hold herself together. She walked into the room that she would be spending the next five months in and groaned before she even made it two feet. Her new roommate was clearly a total slob - her things were even scattered across Alli's side.

She hefted her suitcases onto the bed that presumably wasn't taken, then started to move things from her desk to the one that seemed to be her roommate's. Clearly this girl had never heard of sharing a room before.

Alli wiped every trace of displeasure off of her face as she heard the doorknob turn. Slob or not, she didn't want to start off on the wrong foot with the person she'd be living with. The door opened - and a boy, probably around seventeen or eighteen, strode in. He stopped dead when he caught sight of her, and for a moment, they just stared. He was tall, with pale skin and brown eyes and hair. "Um - who are you?" Alli finally sputtered after a moment of awkward silence.

"You can call me Fitz," he answered. A sly smile made its way onto his face. "Now, not that I'm opposed to having a hot girl in my room, but..."

Trying her best not to show that she was flustered by him calling her hot, she immediately started to put back the few things that she'd taken from her bags. "Uh, I'm sorry, they must have put me in here by mistake, I'll, uh, sort this out with Mr. Simpson when I see him later... I'm Alli, by the way. And I'm... going to leave now. So, bye." She lowered her head and silently cursed herself for being so awkward as she dashed past him and through the doorway. She had absolutely no idea where she was going, but wandering around would probably be better than this.

"Hey," he called after her, "Do you need someone to show you around?" Alli wasn't one to trust boys that she'd just met, particularly not ones she'd just met at a school for insane people, but he seemed innocent enough. She turned around to look at him as she considered.

"I mean, I don't want to burden you..." she said, "But I _could _use a quick tour of the place if you're not busy."

"Well..." Fitz started, pretending to think about it. Alli rolled her eyes. "Come on, man, I wouldn't have offered if I didn't wanna do it. I've got time." He locked and closed the door, then scurried down the hallway to meet her. "This is the hallway," he said, "Pretty cool, eh?" Another eye-roll. "Come on, I'll show you the common room, you can meet everyone."

The walk to the common room was silent and awkward. It wasn't like you could just strike up a conversation with 'so, what brings you to Degrassi' - it wasn't totally appropriate. But Alli was surprisingly not uncomfortable, even with the occasional once-over Fitz gave her. They reached a room that was very clearly marked 'COMMON ROOM'. Fitz held the door open to let her in, which was weirdly nice and not-crazy, then slipped in after her. "Guys, this is Alli."

A guy with black hair and black clothing and way too much guyliner for Alli's liking looked up, uninterested. "Sorry, Fitz, but anyone who willingly hangs out with you isn't someone I want to hang out with."

The girl next to him, a girl about Alli's age with soft brown curls and bright blue eyes, nudged him and shot him a disapproving look. "Come on, Eli, don't be a jerk." Still, she gave Fitz a wary look as she stood up and walked over to Alli. "I'm sure she doesn't know any better yet. I'm Clare, it's nice to meet you."

Alli shook Clare's hand with a smile. "You, too. I'm Alli, but I guess you already know that. I'd ask why I shouldn't hang out with Fitz, but if I have to be his roommate for a few more hours, I probably don't want to know."

"I'm sorry, roommate?" Clare asked, drawing her eyebrows together. "I haven't exactly read the student handbook, and I know we have co-ed dorms, but I'm almost entirely sure that's frowned upon."

"Oh, trust me, I know," Alli assured her, "They must have made a mistake when they chose my room, I'm going to get it fixed later when I see Mr. Simpson."

"Or," Fitz said, slinging an arm around Alli's shoulders, "We could just go with the flow and... make the best of what life throws our way."

"_Or,_" Alli said as she shrugged her way out of Fitz's grip, "I could punch you in the face."

"Hey, if you're into S&M, I can go for that," Fitz said, shrugging. Alli only had to raise an eyebrow, and he threw his hands up in defense. "Alright, alright. Whatever you say, babe."

"The sad part is that it's almost endearing how gross you are," Alli said with a shudder, "It's like when you go to your friend's house and she has a twelve year old brother who somehow thinks he has a shot at getting in your pants."

"That's exactly what he's like!" Clare exclaimed, marvelling at the sudden realization, "I almost can't hate you anymore, Fitz." She turned to Alli. "You know, my roommate just got released a couple weeks ago, so if you want, you could ask Mr. Simpson to room with me. I actually feel weird without a roommate now, so..."

"I don't know, it's gonna be hard to give this one up," Alli said, slapping Fitz's back, "But I'm sure I'll manage. That sounds great!"

"Yeah, sure, everyone bully the guy who's at some shit crazy-kid school 'cause he tried to kill himself, great idea," Fitz said, smirking. Clare and Alli's smiles both faltered, and they both stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to react. "Wow, I wasn't actually trying to guilt trip you," he said, "But it's good to know that works. Alli, you still want that tour? I'd hand you over to Clare, but she's probably too scared of unleashing God's wrath to show you all the places to sneak out."

"And what makes you think I want to know those places?" Alli asked, faking offense. Fitz raised his eyebrows. "Alright, you got me. Show me your castle, Fitzy boy."

**Alright, I'm definitely not happy with the first part of this, but I'm fairly pleased with the second part, so hopefully that makes up for it. Don't forget to review! It makes me feel all happy and warm and fuzzy and awesome inside, and I'm sure you're a nice person who likes to make people feel happy and warm and fuzzy and awesome. :3 Till next time!**


	3. Chapter 3: Kingdom of Welcome Addiction

**[A/N]: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially blueeyedimogen who sent me quite literally the best review I have ever gotten. I love you all! Also, I cannot write Jake to save my life, so he's probably OOC. Oops.**

**[Disclaimer]: I don't own Degrassi, and I don't own "Kingdom of Welcome Addiction". Although I wish I was IAMX. That would be pretty cool.**

**Degrassi School for the Mentally Ill**

**Chapter Three: Kingdom of Welcome Addiction**

"We are so going to get caught," Alli squealed as Fitz boosted her over the fence. "If Simpson sees us, I swear to God I'm telling him you kidnapped me and forced me here." She landed hard on the ground, and after a moment, Fitz landed gently next to her, on his feet, of course, and helped her up.

"Hey," he said, his face deadly serious, "Don't take the Lord's name in vain. It's vulgar." Alli began to sputter an apology, but he broke into laughter. "I'm joking, I'm joking, Bhandari. Geez, take a chill pill."

Alli rolled her eyes, but laughed. "You are such a jerk." Fitz put a finger to his lips, signaling her to whisper, and she noticed for the first time that they were about fifteen feet away from Mr. Simpson's office and twenty from Dr. Oh's. She could see Simpson at his desk, his back turned to them as he ruffled through his papers. "Fitz!" she whisper-shouted, "Are you joking? The fence goes around the entire campus, and you choose to sneak out here?"

"Are you questioning me, Bhandari?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"My name is Alli," she snipped with a smirk.

"Fine, _Alli,_" he said, "I know what I'm doing. This corner is the only place the cameras can't see. You just kick a ball over here when the security guy's at the other side of the building and try to look as innocent as possible. If he asks when he gets back, Eli'll tell him we went inside."

Alli quickly checked over her shoulder to make sure that Simpson wasn't watching them, then dashed out of the bushes and down the sidewalk, pulling Fitz with her. "You sure about that? Maybe I was misreading things, but Eli didn't really seem too fond of you."

"We have a mutual understanding," he answered, "He covers for me and I cover for him."

"That's a kind of tenuous agreement," she said, "But if it works, it works, I guess." She glanced over her shoulder again, still convinced that she was going to find police chasing after her. "You do this a lot, right? And you've never been caught?"

"Relax, Alli. Think of it this way – we already snuck out. If we get caught, we get in trouble. So do you want to have fun while you can, or spend the whole time worrying?" Alli scowled at him, not answering. "That's what I thought. So, what do you wanna do?"

"I don't know," she answered, "What do you usually do?"

"I… don't think you'd really be interested," he said. When she pressured him with a glare, he pulled out a small bag of weed, shaking it and smirking before shoving it back in his pocket. "I mean, if you want…"

"I'm here for drug addiction, Fitz," Alli said, figuring her secret was going to get spilled eventually anyway, "I'm definitely interested. But I actually want to get better, so… I'll pass for now."

Fitz paused their slow stroll and turned to face her. "Drug addiction?" he asked, "Really?"

"Yeah," she murmured. She tried to drop the subject and start walking again, but he didn't join her. "Meth. When I was in ninth grade, I started dating this badass senior 'cause I thought it was cool, and he got me into it."

"That's kind of… douche-y," Fitz said, "Did he… did he make you?"

"He didn't have to," Alli answered with a bitter laugh, "I was a stupid fifteen year old. I was willing to do anything to impress him." Fitz was silent, and Alli couldn't help but roll her eyes at the concerned look he was giving her. "Come on, don't try and tell me you've never corrupted an innocent young girl."

"Hey!" he protested, nudging her with his elbow as they slowly began walking again, "I wouldn't do that! I have drug-dar. I can tell when they want to use and when they're not comfortable with it. I happen to be a very good guy, Bhandari."

"It's _Alli,_" she said through her teeth.

"Right," he said, "Well, I happen to be a very good guy, _Alli._"

"Of course," she replied, "Why do I have trouble believing that?" He nudged her again, but didn't bother defending himself. "So, I told you why I'm here. Why are _you _here? You said you tried to kill yourself…?"

She watched him closely, looking for signs that he wasn't comfortable with the subject. He cast his eyes down, and his Adam's apple bobbed with a gulp, but he answered her quickly, his voice steady. "My step-father and step-brothers abused me," he said almost nonchalantly, "And stupid me thought offing myself would be a better way to get out than calling the cops or something. I've been here for more than a year now. They won't let me out 'cause they think my sarcastic suicidal comments are actually real."

"Are they?" He only answered with a brief nod. "Why?"

When he looked at her, for a fleeting moment, she realized why everyone seemed to think she should stay away from him. His eyes were filled with a burning anger and a dash of pure insanity, but underneath that, she could see a world of pain that she couldn't imagine.

He didn't answer.

* * *

Clare couldn't sleep, as usual. Without a roommate, she could keep as many lights on as she wanted, but it couldn't quell the anxiety, not really. She could still feel the crawling on her skin as she imagined what – or who – could be waiting outside the door, or in the closet, or in the bathroom, or even under the bed, as silly as it sounded. She shut her eyes and squeezed them tight until fireworks exploded in her mind and pulled the blanket over her head. That just smothered her. Before she knew what she was doing, she was out the door. She needed air.

The common room was always open, even after lights out – Simpson wasn't fond of that policy, but Dr. Oh understood that sleep didn't come easy for many of them. But that wasn't where Clare was headed. The doors leading outside were always locked at night, but she knew a window that was much too easy to climb out of. The television was flickering in the otherwise dark common room, so she ducked below the door's window as she passed, not wanting to take a chance and see if the person inside was the type to snitch.

Clare quietly turned the corner – and found herself face to face with a teenage boy, one she'd never seen before. Probably part of the influx of new kids that had come with the new semester.

He fell. He _fell_, right there in front of her, at her feet, then scrambled back up after ten seconds, his cheeks burning a bright crimson. "I – I – I'm sorry, I have – it's – uh – cataplexy – bye." He scampered down the hall to who-knows-where, but Clare wasn't letting him off that easy.

"Wait," she called as quietly as she could. He slowly stopped and turned to face her. "You know you're not allowed to just roam the halls, right?"

The boy shot her a wary look, but he seemed to have calmed down at least a bit. He took a few shaky steps toward her. "Yeah. I think that's called common sense." His tone was snarky, but his lips were curled up in a smile that let her know he was joking. "_You _know you're not allowed to roam the halls, right?"

"I was… on my way to the common room," she said – she'd never been a good liar, not that she was particularly concerned with convincing a fellow roamer of her innocence. He gave her a skeptical look, but didn't speak. "Okay, I was going to sneak outside for a couple minutes and get some air. I couldn't sleep."

He nodded slowly. "Well, assuming you're actually just getting some air, mind if I join you? This place is suffocating."

"Of course," she said, smiling. "Follow me." They started walking as inconspicuously as possible down the hall. The new addition to her outing had Clare's senses more alert than ever – he could tell someone, he could make noise and wake up the RAs, and if she got him caught he'd get in trouble… she knew their wouldn't be much of a punishment for walking down the hall, hell, they would probably just get warnings, but it was nerve-wracking nonetheless. "I'm Clare, by the way," she said.

"Jake," he replied, "Are you one of the new kids, too?"

"No, I've been here since the beginning of this year," she answered. They'd reached the library. She turned the doorknob and opened it as quietly as she could, though the creak of the door sounded like a bomb in the quiet of the night. Once it was open just enough for her to slip through, she did just that, opening it a bit more to let Jake pass after her.

"Aren't there security cameras or something?" Jake asked, a nervous edge to his voice. He glanced around the room, presumably checking to see if he was right.

"Oh, there are tons," she said, smirking. He looked back at her, his eyes widening. "They don't have people watching at night, and they only check them if they think something suspicious went down. We all used to be super careful until this idiot started sneaking out to buy drugs all the time and never get caught." Jake nodded, one eyebrow raised. "So, what's cataplexy?"

It was immediately obvious that he felt awkward about the question, and she started to retract it, but he answered before she could. "It's this thing that affects a lot of people with narcolepsy. Basically, when I get scared or upset or I start laughing, sometimes my muscles get really weak, and, well, that happens. So, when I saw you, I assumed you were Mr. Simpson and I was going to get thrown out for disobeying the rules on the first day and I kind of freaked out."

"Is that why you're here?" Clare asked, "Narcolepsy? I mean, I'm not trying to jump to conclusions, it's just…"

"No, you're fine," he said, "That's… kind of why I'm here. It's complicated."

Clare furrowed her eyebrows as she replied. "But narcolepsy is a sleeping disorder. Why would they send you to a 'school for the mentally ill'?"

"Uh, my dad's a jerk?" he said, laughing a little, but clearly not actually amused. "No, I just get nervous, I guess, always wondering when I'm going to fall asleep out of nowhere. I have anxiety.

"Oh," she said, trying to find a balance between concern and nonchalance, "That makes sense." She reached the window at the other end of the room, the one with a crack in the pane that kept it from being locked. They would probably replace it eventually, but for now it was easy to just slide it open and jostle the screen until it came out. "I have anxiety, too," she said as she snaked through the opening and rolled onto the ground. He quickly followed.

"It's super fun, isn't it?" he asked, a plastic smile on his face. She laughed, but turned away and headed down the courtyard and under the lamps. She was about two hundred percent more likely to get caught bathed in light like this, but she needed to get to it before she went insane. Jake, of course, stayed in the shadows, choosing instead to sit on a picnic table just outside the circle of light. When she looked back at him, all she could see was the darkness rippling and writhing behind him. At least, for once, she wasn't alone.

* * *

Imogen slid into a seat at the table, a suspicious grin crawling its way onto her lips. For just a moment, she tried her best to look like she really was just going to sit there and eat, not saying a thing to Drew, but she was just too damn curious. "So," she started, "Today's your first group therapy, right?" she asked. He looked up at her skeptically, but she was pretty confident that she'd gotten just the right balance of curiosity and friendly conversation. "That should be fun."

"Yeah," he scoffed, twirling spaghetti around his fork aggressively, "I'm sure it'll be a blast."

"What group are you in?" she asked, "Maybe we're in the same one."

His immediate eye-roll was enough to tell Imogen that her plan was over, but she kept a poker face anyway, just in case. "I may be stupid," he said, "But I'm not _that _stupid. I know the groups are separated by disorder, or however they do it. And I'm not a klepto, so I don't think we'll be in the same one."

Imogen pouted, drawing her eyebrows together. "I am not a klepto!" He didn't respond. "Why aren't you eating, huh? Do you have an eating disorder? Are you afraid it's not clean? OCD? Anxiety?"

"I'm not eating because there's a psycho sitting across from me watching my every move," he said through clenched teeth. She left with a _hmph_. Her plan would go much more smoothly if she didn't freak him out too much, anyway. When she glanced over her shoulder, he saw him lift the fork to his mouth as if nothing had happened.

Imogen crossed her arms and stood there for a moment. Her powers of persuasion were usually unbeatable - she was clearly having an off day. After a moment, she realized that she was glaring at Drew and getting weird looks from quite a few people who probably thought she was going to mug him or something. "What are you looking at?" she snapped as she snaked through the cafeteria to find Bianca.


	4. Chapter 4: Stole My Heart

**Degrassi School for the Mentally Ill**

**Chapter Four: Stole My Heart**

The Lumineers pulsed through Maya's head as she haphazardly tossed her clothes into her drawers. The music was the only stable thing in her life right now – between being diagnosed and being sent here, things were crazy. She glanced around the room, and stopped with a sigh. She recognized the alarm clock sitting on the small table at the other end of the room. She recognized the shirt sprawled across the foot of her roommate's bed. Mr. Simpson had done a damn good job of keeping it under wraps, but she wasn't dumb – she knew they had stuck her with Katie. As if just being there wasn't bad enough.

Maya entered the bathroom she'd be sharing with Katie and the two girls in the next room. She could hear the others laughing and yelling through the thin walls, and the sickly fluorescent lights hurt her eyes. A mirror took up almost half of one wall, big enough that she couldn't just duck her head and ignore it. She stared at her reflection, analyzing, and it stared back, criticizing. She looked sick. Tired. She didn't know why her appearance felt so different from her brain.

The door flung open, and Maya surprised herself with how much she wanted to see Katie. She missed her. She needed her sister. But the boy in front of her was most certainly not Katie. He must have been about fifteen or sixteen, and he must have been on some kind of hallucinogenic drug if the freak-out he was currently having was any indication. Maya couldn't tell if he was angry or scared or sad. He gasped out unidentifiable words. When he grasped her shoulders, she could feel his hands quivering. "Katie?" he asked, "Katie?"

"N-no," she stuttered, "I'm not Katie." He seemed to hear he, as he cowered away and turned around, tugging on his hair so hard Maya was waiting for his scalp to come off. He didn't say anything to her, but he didn't leave. "Are you okay?" she asked tentatively, "Do you need me to get Simpson, or Dr. Oh, or –" He swayed, barely catching himself before toppling over. Maya reached toward him, and he let her lead him to her bed and sit him down. "You're okay, you're safe," she said, repeating those words as a placeholder because she didn't know what else she could do.

After a couple of minutes, his erratic breathing faded to a steady, gentle hyperventilation. "Can you talk to me?" she tried again, "Can you tell me what happened?" He shook his head. His eyes were trained straight ahead, seemingly at nothing. Maya lowered herself onto the bed next to him and laid a hand lightly on his shoulder, hoping to bring him back to reality. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Cam-" he choked out, but his voice was tapered by a strangled cry. "Campbell Saunders," he murmured quietly.

"Campbell," she said, testing the name out and committing it to memory. "I'm Maya Matlin. Katie's sister."

His shallow breaths dissolved into a shaky laugh, and as inappropriate as it seemed, the laughter steadied him. "You're nothing like her," he said, his voice frail, "She would have slapped me by now for being such an idiot."

"Yep, sounds like Katie," she said, "But you don't actually think that, do you? You're definitely not an idiot. And if she'd telling you that –"

"She doesn't have to," he cut in, and this time his short laugh was bitter. "I already know. But – Katie's great. She's helped me a lot. I'm sure she'll help you, too."

Maya rolled her eyes. The thought was nice, but hardly necessary. "I don't need help, especially not from my sister. But you… are you sure you don't want me to get someone?"

As if on cue, Katie opened the door and strolled nonchalantly in, stopping when she noticed the other people in the room. "What's going on?" she snapped, "Cam, why are you on my sister's bed? And Maya, why aren't you at orientation?"

"I figured there was no point in going since I'll be leaving as soon as they realize Mom and Dad were just overreacting," Maya answered simply, as if the line had been rehearsed. Katie widened her eyes and threw out her hands in disbelief.

"Go!" she said, pointing to the door. Maya and Cam both started to shuffle out, but she grabbed Cam's shoulder and pulled him back. "Not you." Once Maya shut the door behind her, Katie turned to Cam, one hand on her hip and the other cradling her head. "Cam, what are you doing in here?"

The tone of her voice wasn't angry or disappointed, but Cam shrank away from her anyway. "I – I –" he started, then stopped, reconsidering. "These guys were saying things about my scars, and I freaked out, and I came here. Maya was just helping me calm down, I swear I wasn't trying to do anything –" Katie held up a hand to silence him.

"Cam, you have to stop coming to me every time you have a panic attack." Katie's voice was low and calculated. It sounded rehearsed, too. It probably was. "You know how much I care about you, and how much I want to help you. But I am not a professional, and keeping all these attacks just between us is tricking Dr. Oh into thinking you're getting better when you're not. And you need to get better, Cam, but I can't make you better."

Seeing the tears that had begun streaming down Cam's face was enough to make them well up in her own eyes. Part of her wanted to just take everything back and hug him for the rest of eternity. But this was to help him. It was what was best. "You need to tell Dr. Oh the truth," she said, "All of it. The panic attacks, what happened with your brother. You don't need to do it right now if you're not reading, but you're going to have to deal with this eventually if you want it to go away.

Cam didn't speak, and Katie wondered if he could or if he just wouldn't. He stared to her left, over her shoulder and through the window, then shifted his gaze to meet hers. And then, without warning, he calmly leaned forward, placed his lips against hers, and exited the room, leaving a stunned Katie behind.

* * *

"He _kissed _you?" Katie knew Marisol couldn't possibly understand, not after only knowing her and Cam for a few days, but it was refreshing to talk girl-to-girl as if they weren't locked up in a school for crazy kids. "Isn't he, like, two years younger than you?" Marisol continued, "Gross! I think you need to dump this kid, Katie."

She knew Marisol meant well, she knew she was reacting the way any normal teenage girl would, but Katie bristled with protectiveness for Cam. He was a brother to her, and though their friendship was complicated and sometimes only held together by their mutual insanity, there was nothing gross about it. "Give him a break, Mar," Katie said, sighing softly, "I… I think he was just confused. I was pretty harsh with him earlier, I probably brought it upon myself."

"Don't talk like that, Katie!" She didn't quite know what she was talking like, but she gave Marisol a chance to elaborate. "It's not your fault. He came at you out of the blue. That's, like, sexual harassment or something."

Katie opened her mouth to protest, but a new voice interrupted. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Sexual harassment? What's going on? Do I need to kick someone's ass?"

"Relax, Mo," Katie said, rolling her eyes. "Cam kind of… kissed me this morning. It was weird and random, but it really wasn't a big deal. Marisol just likes to be melodramatic.

But none of that seemed to calm Mo down. "Campbell Saunders sexually harassed you? Okay, that kid is beyond dead." He straightened up, poised to leave the room, find Cam, and attack. Katie grabbed his wrist.

Mo glared down at her, irritated, but didn't try to pull away. "Mo," Katie said, "He didn't do anything wrong. It was one kiss. He wasn't in a good place. He's sixteen, for God's sake! What is your problem?"

"Looks like _someone _has a little crush on you, Katie," Marisol cut in, a conniving smirk playing on her lips, "Or a not-so-little one." Tension set in immediately – awkwardness between Mo and Katie, annoyance between Katie and Marisol. Mo slung an arm around Katie, albeit a little uncomfortably.

"What? Nah, man, Katie's a bro." His words fell flat, but Katie knew for a fact that there was nothing romantic between them. They'd explored the possibility more than once, only to end up with the distinct feeling that they'd attempted an incestuous relationship. "Besides," he continued, taking away his arm and nudging her, "Who could have a crush on that face?"

Katie's jaw dropped in laughter. Had it been anyone else, the comment would have gotten to her, but she let the joke slide. "It's a good thing he doesn't, too," she retorted, "Because he certainly would never have a chance with me."

Marisol raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. "Well, I'll leave you lovebirds to dig your heads out of the dirt," she said. She grabbed her bag and slinked out of the common room. Katie stared after her. Something about the way she'd said it had seemed off, harsher than it should have been.

"Mo," she said, turning to him. A small smile crept onto her face as the realization dawned on her. "Look like _someone _has a little crush on you."

* * *

_I'm not jealous. _Somehow, Eli managed to believe himself as he slid onto the seat next to Clare, across from Jake. The two had been talking and laughing and flirting all morning – it was disgusting. Eli wrapped his arm around Clare's shoulders and smiled, effectively cutting off their conversation. "You must be Jake," he said, extending his free hand, "I'm Eli, Clare's boyfriend."

Jake's face fell almost imperceptibly, but Eli certainly took note of it. "Yeah, that's me," Jake said," Nice to meet you." When Jake took his hand, Eli made sure to squeeze just a bit too hard.

"The pleasure is mine," Eli said as he drew his hand back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really need to speak to my girlfriend about something." Clare said a quick goodbye, but Jake scurried away.

"What's this about?" Clare asked warily. Eli couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't want to talk to him – probably busy thinking about Jake, or any number of other guys who were probably a better match for her than he was.

"What do you think this is about?" Eli laughed, but it sounded more like a whimper. "You think you can just prance around with other guys like that and expect me not to notice? Don't you want to be with me? Am I doing something wrong?"

Clare's eyes searched him. She seemed puzzled. Just a ruse to throw him off her trail, surely. "Eli, of course you're not doing anything wrong," she said, her voice soft, as if she were talking to a baby. "I've known Jake for about fifteen hours, okay? There's nothing going on."

"If there's nothing going on, then why are you talking to him?" Eli hissed, "You're making me look like a fool, and you're making yourself look like a whore." His last words were a slap in the face to Clare, whose expression quickly switched from understanding to fury.

"I'm talking to him for the same reason you talk to Fiona or Jenna," she spat, "I'm allowed to have _friends, _Eli. You can't control that, and if you think you can, you're sicker than I thought."

"I _talk _to _Jenna_ because I'm _cheating _on you with her!" His shout rang out through the common room, and everyone's head turned first to Eli and Clare, then to where Jenna sat by the windowsill. A dull silence fell over the room before the murmuring started.

"You're cheating on me?" Clare cried, no longer bothering to keep quiet. "You're _cheating _on me, and you still somehow think you have the right to control who I talk to? You're pathetic, Eli! I can't believe I haven't broken up with you yet."

"I tried not to," Eli gasped. His face contorted into an apologetic grimace, but there was no guilt. "I didn't want to, Clare, but you just couldn't give me what I needed anymore. I needed someone who wouldn't be distant, who would be there for me, who would tell Dr. Oh when she was worried even when I asked her to keep it a secret. And that wasn't you, Clare. It was Jenna."

For a split second, Clare's pain showed through, but she slammed the walls back up before he could see her weakness. She couldn't let him turn this around on her. "Don't you _dare _do this, Elijah," she said, "You told me you _loved _me! But I bet you told _Jenna _that, too, since it apparently means nothing to you." She started to storm out of the room, but turned around to speak once more. "And I would have talked to Dr. Oh, but I was afraid that you would get mad and hit me again. Or have you forgotten?"

"Will everyone just shut up for a minute?" Jenna shrieked, but the room had already fallen into silence after Clare's last words. Jenna stood with a huff and walked over to Eli and Clare. "Eli, what are you talking about? He's not cheating on you, Clare. You _know _I would never do that to you. And I would _never_ settle for some abusive freak who only wanted me to be the other woman."

"I – I don't know what to believe right now," Clare murmured, her eyes flickering between Eli and Jenna. "Eli, tell me the _truth,_" she said, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"Now you know how it feels." Eli quietly left the room, leaving everyone else just that much more affirmed of just how messed up he really was.

No one spoke, not even Clare or Jenna, until Jake stepped forward and asked what they were all thinking. "You're not going to stay with him, are you?" He didn't know, but this wasn't the first of Eli's antics. Clare had stayed through every one, letting him toss her around like his plaything. Jake was the only one surprised by Clare's answer.

"I don't know," she whispered, "I don't know if I can."


End file.
